


Water Swept It Away

by Lortan



Series: While I was listening on Spotify [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Faerie eats Lord Voldemort, Coffee is good for you, Harry is a self sacrificing bastard, I have a mild addiction to the Fae, Just going to get that out there real quick, Time NF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 14:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21357754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lortan/pseuds/Lortan
Summary: He doesn't actually remember exactly how they finally drew the conclusion that they just couldn't do it alone.But he wonders what would have happened if they hadn't.
Series: While I was listening on Spotify [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532363
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Water Swept It Away

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely inspired by a recent Houses Competition prompt, and too much Time spent listening to NF, pun intended.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Whenever he looks back, he cannot help thinking that none of them knew what they were doing. And he's right. He remembers the confusion and desperately trying to win a war that was impossible to win, camping out afraid in the woods and running for their lives, staying up at night trying to plot a move that may actually work for once. He remembers nightmares leading them on, and arguments about things that no one could fix, and everyone drifting off to far off places, long ago times, when none of this was happening.

He doesn't actually remember exactly how they finally drew the conclusion that they just couldn't do it alone.

But he wonders what would have happened if they hadn't. He dreams of it, intermixed with nightmares and nonsensical fever dreams. Maybe they would have died. Maybe everyone would have died, and Voldemort would have ruled. Maybe they would have beaten him anyway. Maybe he would have survived long enough to grow up and marry Ginny and have kids.

Instead, there's an electric blue mark twining around his wrist and up his arm, and when he wakes up from those dreams there's a pair of equally blue cat eyes two inches from his, and his hair is mixed with hers, inky black crow feather curls tangled with paper white velvet soft ringlets.

Summoning spells. Old ones. So old that old was spelled olde and magic was magicks. They'd been desperate, clutching at straws, reaching to catch dust in the wind. They'd just wanted out. Faeries seemed like an answer. True Faeries; the kind that stood tall and hunted down wrongdoers to punish them, with fire older than fiendfyre and green magic older than the killing curse. The kind that sang and could make you want to die or dance, depending on their tone. The kind that made bargains with humans, and they never worked out well for the human.

They didn't care. Hermione did most of the work. Ron tried to help. He knew some old lore. Harry watched helplessly on, until it was time for one of them to actually step forward and do the thing. He reasoned that if he was the chosen one, abandoning his prophecy, he might as well be the one to take the risk.

He didn't expect it to work so well, so absurdly well. He didn't expect for the bargain to be made at the price of the rest of his life. But he accepted, because what was his life in the grand scale of things? If his friends could survive, if all of the innocents caught in the crossfire could survive, if Voldemort would die... he didn't expect for the little girl-Faerie to be so effective. He expected magic, some old green spell, like they had read about. He didn't expect the bodies. He didn't expect to watch her all but eat Voldemort alive, her cat eyes glowing like hellfire as she gobbled him and his magic up, his chilling screams of terror echoing. He didn't expect the maelstrom, the swirling waves of sea water and water-logged bodies, carrying the results of their bargain away, whirled into the earth like water down the tub drain. He didn't expect to follow, sucked down into a world of soft light and dried flowers, water still whirling outside the windows.

He got it though. And he got to give the rest of his life, in the form of a little girl clinging to his arm, asking him where they would be living for eternity. Apparently, his life meant living codependantly. She wanted him alive. She wanted his life, in the form of being his centre of attention at all times. She didn't react well to interruptions. Harry didn't get to control himself any more.

When he gets up, he can still see the bodies, littering the floor. He steals around them, even knowing that they're not real. He's just seeing things. Like always.

She follows him, close behind, trotting along like a child, even though he knows he must be centuries old. Her wings look more fragile than they actually are, and their cyan dust shimmers as it coats the floor behind her. It matches the colour of the storms she makes, the magical vortex that she has surrounded them in. He hasn't seen sun in years. Instead, he looks out and is greeted by blood in the water.

But he cannot deny the small smidgen of contentment he feels when he knows that everyone is safe. Somewhere out there, his friends might be crying his name, but they're alive and going to stay that way. Death Eaters all drowned in their own personal seawater bubbles that night, and there is no one else who is going to hurt the hundreds of innocent people who don't know how to protect themselves. If he's somehow doomed himself, it's worth it. If the coffee he pours reminds him of blood and saltwater, of swirling dark waters swallowing everything in sight, it's worth it. He can deal with that image, that gaping maw of an underground lake, that cave flooded by the tides, that jaws of an ocean monster opening and swallowing the swirling waters, if everyone is safe.

The Faerie sitting next to him hums contentedly and leans against him, her skin hot like boiling water. She is bony and thin, and without really noticing he finds himself wrapping an arm around her. The marking on his wrist glows with the contact, and she purrs.

There are some things only learned in the storm, and he's weathered it. For the most part, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> So.... um.... another Faerie fic, anyone? Just kidding, you don't get any choice in the matter any longer. This is what I do now.
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment if it suits you but feel no pressure because I know how busy you are, Karen. Byeeeeeeeee!


End file.
